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“Sure,” Emma says and holds out her hand.
“Are you Lottie Snow?” he asks again. He reaches for his phone, and I notice mine has stopped ringing. He answers it and then puts it on speaker.
“Bunny, I’d suggest you get up and take these forms.” His voice rings through. “You won’t like the consequences if you disobey.”
“You aren’t my father!” I yell out.
“No, but it seems you need to be spanked.” Emma gasps and looks back to me, I can see the appreciation in her eyes at his words. “Take the paperwork, or my driver here will deliver it to your father instead.”
“I wish I never saw you that night,” I say, getting up off the floor. I take the paperwork the man is offering, step back, and shut the door in his face. Emma immediately takes it from my hands and starts opening it as I look on in shock.
“It’s a contract,” she states. “Hold on, there is more.”
Sign on the dotted line…
I, Lottie Snow, agree to marry, Whiskey Corton, on the date supplied in the attached contract. In signing this document, I agree that I shall not, by any means, try to break this contract. I understand that if I do, the envelope held in escrow will be released to the parties identified within the contract, and I shall forfeit my right to the privacy currently afforded to me by the aforementioned Mr. Whiskey Corton.
I stand there, stunned. Not even bothering to continue reading it.
Nope. No way. This is not real.
“It goes on to say how he will release the video publicly as well as to your father if you don’t agree to the arrangement.”
“Well, I don’t agree.” I turn to see Emma, who’s now standing with her arms crossed as she watches me.
“I don’t want to say it, but I already know what you’re going to do.”
I stand and shake my head at her words. “You don’t.”
“I do because it’s what you always do. You’ll do what is best for your father. But think about this, Lottie. This is all about you. Your life. You need to do what’s best for you. And marrying someone because of blackmail is not something you should do, no matter the consequences or how many orgasms he gave you.”
“I never said I’d marry him,” I tell her.
She walks past me and goes to her room. Opening the door, she looks back at me. “But you will. And my guess is that man knows this fact as well. How much did you tell him that night?”
“I don’t remember. I was drinking.” I cringe thinking back to that night. I told him a lot, that much I know for sure, but I never thought I’d see him again. Fuck! How wrong was I?
Emma’s long nails tap on the door’s edge. “I suggest you don’t drink around him ever again. You know…when you’re married.” She smiles before she ducks into her room, shutting the door behind her.
CHAPTER 6
WHISKEY
I smile as I look at the screen of the camera located outside of my office. Her long, red hair is in waves and hanging down her back while she stares at my personal assistant. Today she’s dressed as a pin-up model; it’s a bit tamer than the look she was wearing on the night before at her father’s gala. Her lips are pursed, and she’s clearly angry because she’s been kept waiting to see me for over an hour. Granted, I only found out about her presence ten minutes ago, but I like seeing this side of her. I love watching her anger. The way her plump lips push together in a thin line makes them even redder, and how she gets a slight wrinkle in her forehead indicating she’s not happy. Angry Lottie is hot as fuck.
Her arms cross over her chest as she looks to the elevator, which leads to the exit, and I can tell her patience is wearing thin.
I pull the door open, and her green eyes flick to me as her arms drop to her sides.
Quickly, and with no hesitation, she moves toward me until she’s standing directly in front of me. “You,” she seethes.
“Sir, I told her you were in a meeting.”
I look over Lottie’s shoulder to my personal assistant. “Thank you. Hold all my calls until Miss Snow leaves.” I step back and hold the door open for Lottie to enter. She doesn’t look at me when she walks in, her eyes trained straight ahead, but I take the perfect opportunity to stare at her ass in her tightly fitted skirt. Her red heels make her legs seem even longer.
“I can feel you staring at my ass. Stop it.” She pulls the seat out opposite my desk and sits, not even looking back to confirm that I am, indeed, staring at her ass. I shut the door and walk around to my chair as she puts the contract on the desk. I smile thinking about that night—it wasn’t what I expected. I’m glad she’s nothing like I’d imagined in my head. She’s better, so much more than perfect.
“It’s a pleasure to see you.”
